


don't keep love around

by Suicix



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Community: 1_million_words, Denial of Feelings, Friends With Benefits, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Post-Coital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 19:45:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7236052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something there, and they both know it. (Wade would just rather believe that there isn't.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't keep love around

**Author's Note:**

> Written for One Million Words' 4th March word of the day, "absolve".
> 
> who even knows when this is set because i sure don't. early 2016 obviously but ????? as to when exactly.

The rush of the shower comes to a stop, and Wade quickly stands up from where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I’ll be off, then,” he says the moment Sheamus emerges from the bathroom door.

An escape should be easy: he’s fully dressed while all Sheamus has on is a towel from the bathroom wrapped around his waist. Wade could leave, and he wouldn’t be followed. Wouldn’t have to explain anything.

“Already?” Sheamus wonders, sounding almost cheery, as if he doesn’t believe it, but when he actually looks at Wade, his face falls, expression turning serious. “I guess you mean that, then.”

“Don’t say things I don’t mean, do I?” Wade tells him. “Always honest, me. You know that.”

“Right.” The one word is brusque, as if Sheamus is aware that Wade isn’t exactly employing that honesty right now, as if he knows that Wade’s trying to hide it. “Why actually wait to say goodbye, though?”

Wade blinks. He may just be caught out here. He’s about to open his mouth, about to spout some half-hearted answer, but Sheamus carries on.

“You didn’t leave when I was in there. And you easily could have.”

“Well, no. I didn’t. Believe it or not, I’m not that much of a jerk.”

“I know you’re not,” says Sheamus, and his voice is – significantly softer than before. “I can believe that just fine.”

“So? What’s the deal, then?”

“I just thought you might have considered staying tonight, is all.”

Again, Wade says nothing for a moment. He just clears his throat and cocks his head towards the door.

“Well, you thought wrong. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be heading over to my own room.” He takes a step closer to the door, but Sheamus speaks again before Wade can reach it.

“You can’t run away from this forever.”

It’s just a sentence, just seven words, but it stops Wade dead in his tracks.

“What are you on about? There’s nothing to even run away _from_ ,” Wade insists, though he knows there is, and he knows that that’s exactly what he’s doing.

“What do you call this, then? What you’re doing right now? What _we_ do? It’s something more than just mindless sex. I thought you knew that.”

Wade does know, is the thing. He knows there’s something there just as much as Sheamus does. He just – he can’t bring himself to admit it, to let it be that somewhere other than just inside his head.

There was one time, a few RAWs ago, when he stayed. It felt oddly right – falling asleep there, waking up there with Sheamus beside him, going down to get breakfast together instead of just meeting each other there. Sheamus is probably thinking of it too, maybe even expecting Wade to recall that night and come to his senses that _yes, this is it, this has been what’s right for me all along_ , but Wade just can’t bring himself to do it. He doesn’t _want_ to do it. There isn’t any reason to.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says instead, hoping his expression is blank, hoping it doesn’t give anything away. There’s nothing _to_ give away, though, is there? Nothing. Just as there’s nothing to run away from.

(There are – there are _things_ , though: good things as well as the frightening, overwhelming fact that this could easily turn into something real – something _too_ real – if Wade doesn’t try his best to shut it down. Good things like how unspoken it was that they’d end up here tonight, how Wade didn’t even have to ask or wonder. Like the sex itself, rough with few words exchanged during it yet still just what he needed. Like the kiss pressed between his shoulder blades after he came, his face pressed to the pillows and one of Sheamus’ hands steady on his back.)

Maybe Wade could do it if they were anyone but themselves, but the wrestling makes things different. It means that all there is for you is endless weeks of travelling to arenas and hotels that all look and feel the same, that all you can have with someone are nights like this one that are supposed to mean nothing, and you certainly can’t have any more than that. Can’t even _want_ any more than that. Everything’s so fucking ephemeral in this business, whether it be the way you’re treated by the higher-ups or relationships in and out of the ring. Nothing’s stable, nothing’s sure. The only thing that can be called fixed is the outcome of matches. Wade’s got half a mind to get away from it all. In fact, he’s going to do it, going to take the next chance he gets. It’s been in the back of his mind for the best part of a year, but he’s finally going to take the next out before it passes him by.

However, it’s _also_ in the back of his mind that he won’t be able to get away from this, no matter how far away he goes, no matter how hard he tries to cut himself off from it all.

He can at least try, though. Can try to forget, to build something new, something he doesn’t need to feel guilty about because he won’t be a part of this – this _machine_ anymore. Yes, that’s exactly what he has to do. Wade edges even closer to the door now, about to reach out for the handle, but again his attempt is compromised.

“Wade–” It’s the first word from Sheamus after a few moments of silence, and a hand reaches out to Wade’s shoulder, almost about to grab, but he just brushes it off, even if he can’t do the same thing to his emotions, as much as he tries. They’ll still share the car tomorrow, and Sheamus will pretend that nothing’s happened, and everything will be just fine. All of this will be forgotten, or at least not spoken of.

Wade lets the door slam shut behind him and heads down the corridor to his own hotel room, his own empty bed, his own cold sheets. He tells himself that he doesn’t feel bad, doesn’t feel anything, that he’s just as cold as the duvet he’ll be sleeping under, but once he’s there, he’ll have another shower to absolve himself of the guilt.


End file.
